The Cornish Cream Tea Summer Read online

  Part Two

  Beauty and the Yeast

  Cressida McLaughlin

  Copyright

  Published by HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd

  The News Building

  1 London Bridge Street

  London SE1 9GF

  www.harpercollins.co.uk

  First published in Great Britain in ebook format in 2020 by HarperCollinsPublishers

  Copyright © Cressida McLaughlin 2020

  Cover design © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2020.

  Cover illustration © May Van Millingen

  Cressida McLaughlin asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

  A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

  This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

  Ebook Edition © 2020 ISBN: 9780008333577

  Version: 2020-02-24

  Dedication

  To the BookCampers

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Part Two: Beauty and the Yeast

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Acknowledgements

  Keep Reading …

  About the Author

  Also by Cressida McLaughlin

  About the Publisher

  Part Two

  Beauty and the Yeast

  Chapter One

  The sky was a muted grey, the wind tugging at the grass that edged the cliff top, the sound of crashing waves far below them distant, but still foreboding. Robert Bramerton strode forwards and then stopped, his handsome brow creasing, lips parting. Confusion and intrigue painted his features while the woman watched on, her dress twisting around her legs, her bare feet dusted with dirt. Her hand flickered up to her throat, the pale curls and skin making her seem almost translucent against the washed-out sky. But even from here, Delilah Forest could see the blue of her eyes.

  Mesmerizing. The whole thing was mesmerizing.

  ‘Estelle?’ Robert Bramerton said, somehow managing to make it both a question and a statement. It was the moment, Lila knew, when he’d figured out who the spectre was, the presence who he’d been seeing, sensing, since he and his brother had moved to Cornwall, to the huge, crumbling house they’d inherited. His hand reached out slowly, reverently, to the woman clad in white, and then Gregor, the director, shouted, ‘Cut!’ breaking the spell.

  Lila blinked and realized her heart was thumping, that she had been wholly engrossed in the moment, even though it was two people standing on a cliff top, saying hardly anything to each other. This time, she hadn’t even glanced between the action and the monitor she was lurking behind. She had wanted to see it live, to stamp it into her memory: to be able to say she had been there when Keeley Klein and Sam Magee starred together in Estelle, thus securing their respective roads to superstardom.

  She slipped away from the crowd of people – there was always a huge crowd hovering close to the action – and hurried back to the Cornish Cream Tea Bus, where she had left a tray of cherry scones on the cooling rack. Amanda had brought them round to Charlie’s house yesterday evening, one of a number of different cakes and pastries she had baked, helping Lila out while she was in sole charge of the bus.

  ‘Hello, Marmite,’ Lila said as she checked on him. The Yorkipoo yapped in approval and turned around twice before settling back down on the driver’s seat. It was still early, but Gregor had wanted the pure, post-dawn light for that scene, and Lila had to admit it had made everything look ghostly, almost magical.

  She prodded her scones and surveyed her tiny kingdom, a smile on her face.

  Charlie and Daniel had been gone for five days. Lila had waved them off from the doorway of Charlie’s house, her cousin giddy with excitement about their American trip, Daniel not that much more composed. Their happiness had made Lila happy, but then she’d spent the evening in a state of pure terror, sitting on the sofa with Marmite on one side of her, and Jasper, Daniel’s German shepherd, on the other, even though she was sure Charlie would have frowned at the large dog denting her sofa cushions.

  She was responsible for Gertie, the dogs, and Charlie’s house, which seemed like a lot. But when she had turned up at work the day after Charlie’s departure, Keeley had bounded on board and given her a wordless hug, and Lila had known everything would be OK.

  ‘Coffee machine ready and raring?’ asked a voice, and Lila blinked herself back to the present.

  ‘Of course,’ she said to the imposing man with a salt and pepper beard, shock of dark hair and the most expressive eyebrows she had ever seen. ‘What would you like? Arabica or robusta beans? Light or dark roast? Latte, flat white, Americano, espresso?’

  ‘Good God, girl! Are you attempting to befuddle me with your barista wizardry again?’

  Lila laughed. ‘Arabica bean Americano with a splash of hot milk, then.’

  ‘Indeed.’

  Lila set about making it while Bert stared out of the window. Lila had only met Bertrand Harridge on Friday, as he hadn’t been needed for the first two weeks of filming. Playing a judge, and distant relative of the Bramerton brothers in the production, he was everything Lila had expected of an older actor, even though most of those expectations had been clichés. Bert unapologetically fitted every one. He was loud, extremely posh, and entirely lacking in subtlety, and within five minutes of meeting him, Lila adored him.

  ‘Saw you watching the action,’ he said mildly, his gaze still fixed on the scene beyond the window.

  ‘I may have sneaked away for ten minutes,’ Lila admitted, heating the milk for his coffee. ‘It was beautiful.’

  ‘Everything about Estelle is. This director, Gregor Whatnot, is supposedly a visionary. I’m impressed so far, though the proof of the pudding will be in the rushes.’

  ‘Are you filming today?’

  ‘You think I hang around places like this for the fun of it?’

  ‘Silly question,’ Lila said, grinning. ‘Here’s your coffee. Muffin, sausage roll, cheese and spinach pie?’ She gestured to the impressive display, and Bert’s eyes lit up.

  ‘Cheese and spinach, eh? Did you nab these from Gregg’s on your way in?’ He gave her a twinkly smile and took one. ‘Much obliged, Delilah. No doubt I’ll be seeing you later.’ He held up the pie in thanks and sauntered off the bus.

  She wished he could remember to call her Lila. Her full name made her feel told off, and reminded her of the song, the mantra she’d chided herself with on too many occasions. The famous Tom Jones song that included the words ‘why’ and ‘Delilah’.

  But not now. Now, she was triumphing, even if she was more exhausted than she’d ever been.

  ‘Did you really make all of these?’ Lila turned to find Keeley, no longer in her white dress, but wearing jeans and
an oversized green sweater.

  ‘Some of them,’ Lila said. ‘But Charlie’s enlisted the help of Amanda, her friend in Porthgolow, to do a lot of the baking while I’m here, and it’s making things easier. I don’t know how Charlie found the time to run the bus and do all the baking for it, too, before I turned up. But she’s a pro. You were amazing, by the way. You and Sam.’

  ‘When?’ Keeley’s fingers danced over the cake stands, playing Eenie Meenie Miney Mo.

  ‘Just now. That scene, when Robert calls Estelle by her name for the first time; when he’s done research into the previous occupants of the house and realized who she is. Estelle,’ she said, dipping her voice and holding her hand out just as he had. ‘I was gripped, and I was standing behind Gregor and all the millions of cameramen and lighting crew. When people are watching it on a forty-inch flat screen they’ll be in awe.’

  Keeley pressed her lips together, her blue eyes large.

  ‘What?’ Lila asked. ‘I shouldn’t technically have been watching, but Toby has sneakily given me some scripts, and this scene was one I really wanted to—’

  ‘It’s not that,’ Keeley cut in. ‘You really think it was good? I mean, Sam is undeniably brilliant. He doesn’t need to say anything to convey a whole world of emotion, but I feel like a sack of potatoes. It’s easier when there’s dialogue.’

  ‘What’s easier?’ Lila asked her, softly. ‘You’re a wonderful actor. You’re not having a crisis of confidence, are you?’

  Keeley gave her a wobbly smile. ‘Low blood sugar. What’s this?’

  ‘Mozzarella and tomato slice. I can warm one up for you.’

  ‘That sounds like bliss.’

  Lila got to work while Keeley sat down, her hands hidden inside the sleeves of her sweatshirt. She was fidgeting, and Lila thought she looked uncomfortable, disquieted. With nobody else on the bus, Lila lifted Marmite out of the cab and put him on Keeley’s lap. Keeley sneezed, then smiled.

  ‘Aaah, Marmite, how are you?’ Marmite barked, and Keeley laughed and hugged him.

  When they were ready, Lila brought over a coffee and the warmed-up slice. ‘Are you sure you’re OK?’

  ‘I’m fine,’ Keeley said. ‘Except that I had a fight with Jordan last night. I hate phone fights, where you can’t see each other and words get distorted and there’s no … touching or hugging or twitching lips, when you’re trying not to laugh and you know it’ll all be OK.’

  Lila slipped into the seat opposite her. ‘Was it a big fight?’

  ‘He’s busy at work, so he can’t make it down here for another couple of weeks. He works a lot of weekends, so there’s no point in me going home either – we’d have about half an hour together, which would just make things worse.’

  ‘Have you heard from him this morning?’

  ‘We always speak first thing, and we did, but there was some lingering frostiness.’

  ‘That’ll thaw,’ Lila said. ‘You love each other, don’t you? You’re soul mates, and you’re both finding it tough to be apart for this long. But that’s completely understandable, and you’ll get through it.’

  Keeley wiped a dribble of tomato juice off her chin. ‘Why is it that we’re always so wise about other people’s relationships, but not our own?’

  ‘Detachment,’ Lila said immediately. ‘We can look at it objectively, without emotion.’

  ‘So true,’ Keeley sighed. ‘What about your love life? Anyone waiting for you in London?’

  ‘Nope,’ she said, reaching over to take Marmite, who was intent on helping Keeley finish her pastry. ‘There hasn’t been anyone for a while. The last boy, Nathaniel – and he was a Nathaniel, not a Nate or a Nathan – said I was too unpredictable. But he ironed his boxer shorts and had his alarm turned on at six o’clock at weekends. Needless to say it didn’t last long, which is pretty much the story of my life.’

  ‘Isn’t unpredictable good in a relationship? If boyfriends came with a blurb and an instruction leaflet then things would be dull.’

  Lila shrugged. ‘It wasn’t his fault. We just weren’t a great match, despite the initial attraction.’

  ‘What about that Ozzie guy at the equinox festival? Did you get his number?’

  ‘Holden? No, I didn’t talk to him again after you appeared. Besides, he was far too full of himself for my liking. All white teeth and arrogant, lazy grins. I bet underneath he was as shallow as a paddling pool – not that there’s anything wrong with that, it’s just not for me, the same way as I’m not everyone’s cup of tea. I’m not neat or organized, I like adventure, so sue me.’ She shrugged. ‘Speaking of which, are you free at lunchtime? Em, the catering manager, makes sure someone from the team gives me a break every day now that Charlie’s not here. I’m going to walk Marmite along the cliff, if you fancy it?’

  ‘I am entirely at your service,’ Keeley said. ‘I’d love to go for a walk with the puppy.’

  ‘Listen to that, Marmite,’ Lila said. ‘Keeley thinks you’re still a pup. What a compliment.’ Marmite snuffled his nose into Lila’s apron, which was adorable until she realized she’d probably dropped some cream or sugar down it, and he was simply helping himself.

  ‘Thank you for the refreshments and the chat,’ Keeley said. ‘What time are we puppy walking?’

  ‘About one thirty?’

  ‘Perfect. I’ll see you then.’

  The coastline around St Eval was the most impressive that Lila had ever seen, which was probably why they’d picked it as a prime filming location. The sea was wild and raw ahead of them, and the cliffs stretched for miles in both directions. It was the first time Lila felt she could really see the world, how it was shaped and put together, and that if she ever went into space, she would be able to look down and find this exact spot. She breathed in the sea salt and the icy clarity of the wind, along with this new perspective.

  Marmite scuffled in the grass, his lead wound three times round her hand so that he couldn’t stray too far towards the edge. She imagined that on a normal day it would be busy with hikers walking the path, instead of this strange, put-together community. The crash of the waves couldn’t disguise the sounds of the set, the shouts and bangs, people and trucks and moving equipment, even though there was a good distance between the soft ground along the cliff top and the heavy vehicles. The contrast between the wildness of the landscape and the hive of human activity was startling.

  ‘Have you ever seen anything like it?’ Lila asked.

  Keeley shook her head. ‘It’s all so vast. And it’s nice not being quite so close to the edge, on this occasion.’

  ‘Does Gregor push you? Not literally, I mean – wrong choice of words.’ She grinned. ‘I meant does he encourage you to get closer?’

  ‘He wants the shot to feel precarious to the audience,’ Keeley explained. ‘For them to have that sense of jeopardy, that Robert is risking his life by following Estelle towards danger. Did you see us setting up this morning?’ She crouched, peering at some pink flowers beginning to bud beneath their feet.

  Lila shook her head. ‘I only arrived once you were shooting.’

  ‘He’d set out our marks, and Sam’s was on this jut of rock that was just sort of … hovering above the water. It was like something out of Indiana Jones. You should have seen Sam’s face when Gregor showed him.’ Keeley laughed. ‘He’s such a mild-mannered person, but he looked as if he wanted to kill Gregor, and then he told him he had to be fucking kidding. The assistant director, Beth, had to persuade Gregor to move it in at the risk of losing one of his lead actors.’

  ‘What did Gregor say? Art requires sacrifice,’ Lila suggested in a dramatic voice. ‘Either Sam survives, or he is lost to us forever and we reach a new level of authenticity!’ She gestured wildly, doing a half-pirouette that almost sent her tripping over Marmite’s lead and straight over the edge.

  ‘Shit, Lila!’ Keeley grabbed her sleeve, laughing. ‘Don’t be such an idiot. And no, Gregor did not say that. He said “you’re probably right”, and chan
ged the set-up.’

  ‘Ah, shame,’ Lila said. ‘And was Sam OK after that? He calmed down?’

  She tried to keep her voice level. He had been on the bus almost every day, sometimes dressed as Robert Bramerton, sometimes as himself. But those amber eyes were always the same, and his deep voice with a hint of an Irish accent reverberated somewhere deep inside her. Not to mention that he was kind, warm, humble. She sometimes wished he had an actor’s ego, that he was bold and brash and utterly self-absorbed, that he knew how gorgeous he was so she wouldn’t waste any time thinking it, too. But nothing about him said look at me, and so, of course, Lila looked.

  ‘He was fine,’ Keeley said. ‘You know Sam – he’s so professional. Stepped on his new mark, rolled his shoulders, became Robert Bramerton.’

  ‘And there’s romance ahead for Robert Bramerton.’ She knew this already, but she wanted to hear it from Keeley.

  ‘There most definitely is. It’s one of the reasons the brothers wage war with each other later on in the series.’

  ‘Aria’s character, Marianne?’

  ‘The very same,’ Keeley said. ‘Things are going to get very tangled. You know, though? You said Toby had given you some scripts? I’m pretty sure he’s not allowed to do that.’

  ‘He’s not,’ Lila replied, ‘but I was desperate to find out what the plot was, and it does get boring sometimes, when there are no customers to serve – I know some of the scenes off by heart. But he’s sort of drip-feeding them to me, which is pretty cruel when you think about it. You’re not filming the scenes in order, but he’s letting me see them episode by episode.’ She huffed, and Keeley laughed.

  ‘Everyone else will have to watch it in episode instalments. That’s the point.’

  ‘Yes, but I’m an insider,’ Lila said. ‘I shouldn’t have to wait. I love reading it, but I also love sneaking down to see you in action, to see the words coming alive. I’ve just got to a bit with Robert and Marianne,’ she added, trying to sound nonchalant.